We Are Young
by Feanfyr
Summary: My take on a Frostiron Prompt: Tony is Asgardian and meets Loki when they're kids. Together they get into mischief and become BFFs. By the time the events of the Thor film come about Loki has someone to turn to and who actually believes he could be a great king (but also thinks being king is incredibly dull and wants Loki to get Thor back so they continue going on epic adventures).


**We Are Young, But Our Dreams Gives Us Wings**  
**Arc I - The Prince and the Guildsman's Son**  
**Act 0 - Meeting**

_**"And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons."**_

* * *

Before leaving for the elder prince's 172th birthday feast (this one, being _Hátíð hinna litum_, by far the most extravagant of them except perhaps the one following his _Dagur Nöfn _where the prince was introduced to the realm- but, then, that didn't really interest _him_ as Tony was only 170 and wasn't even alive then), his father had taken him aside and said, "Do not make me regret this Antonius or, Norns help me, you will not visit your aunt nor the _slave_ until you are two-hundred. This means none of the shenanigans you pulled at the other gatherings I brought you to!"

It is a decent threat as far as the other threats his father had said like "If you do not behave you will spend _Miðjum vetri _at home!" as Tony loved his 'aunt' Maria even if she _was_ a vanir servant and he adored Jarvis- who was only a slave because his grandfather had been a spy against Asgard in one of the earlier wars and sentenced to life (and, consequently, that of the rest of his family unless their owners chose to grant them freedom) as a slave- regardless to how "unacceptable" it was viewed in the eyes of all social circles whom dealt with slaves. Thus he had decided to at least _try_ and behave- no shenanigans planned for unlike when he had carefully spent the night carving into the wood of the dining room chairs with a knife so that the men part of his father's guild would break them as soon as they sat down or when he mixed in dog droppings into the chocolate pudding be served for when his father hosted a nobleman- rather then be forced to only interact with his father's friends and their offspring.

When they arrived with their presence announced as "Guildsman Howard Starkson, leader of the Stark Iron Industrial Guild, with his son, Antonius Howardson!" which _was_ impressive, especially when the guards opened the giant polished white-wood doors with the glinting golden-bronze handles to admit them to a golden hall.

Then he started picking out things, ignoring how his father's heavy, hard clutching hand on his shoulder directed him along.

The hall was large, about 86.6 by 86.6 feet, with wooden flooring a dark brownish-red color with crystal chandeliers hanging from golden-bronze vines that curled around the edges of the ceiling so the center may have a mosaic of jewels while twisting and twining as decorations on the gold veined white marble walls (breaking only to curl about the stained glass windows and the wooden doors). Rectangle tables lined the western wall, the wood covered by golden cloth and held food cradled in golden bowls or plates with golden cups and utensils offered- the other tables that dotted the hall the same save for their oval shape and lack of food.

The north-eastern corner of the room was home to a small army of personal servants and slaves whom had accompanied their masters- Maria and Jarvis, servant and slave respectively, broke away from them to join those in the corner. The opposite corner, the north-western corner, was empty where the table line didn't reach with only a single wooden door there- possibly the servants' doors. The southern corners also had doors, the eastern being the double doors they entered through and the western being a single door that may also be for servants.

The southern stage housed musicians, employed by the royal family if one took in the golden-bronze coloring of their clothing accents and their golden instruments, and traveling entertainers. The northern stage held the royal family's table which was decorated as gold upon gold upon gold- even the chairs were gold with golden cushions- was before the other set of double doors with a small staircase leading from the doors to the stage made of white with gold rails and a leading carpet.

The people were dressed in their best and brightest clothing- the adults strutting around like peacocks, all certain of their superiority over the rest present, with their children either trying to emulate their parents or fighting not to show their discomfort with varying degrees of success- with only the ten noble families recognizable in their shimmering silvers. Even the servants and slaves were dressed well- some for the first times judging from the stiff clothing and uncomfortable postures- in order to show off their families' standings and wealth.

It was all rather pretentious of the guests on a scale he had yet to experience previously- it was _exceedingly_ difficult to behave. The still clutching hand helped but he did end up resorting to translating _'The Promise of Willow Grove' _from Vlannian (Maria and Jarvis had started teaching him languages when it became apparent that he needed _some_ form of mental stimulation regardless of him being old enough for him to start lessons after his 172th year- he had only to learn the elven languages before he had the realms' major languages down) to Asgardian.

It was at _"Upon the seventh morn, whilst the dawn was barely bleeding across the sky, the wall bucked like an untamed stallion..."_ when the royals arrived, preceded by the announcement of "Allfather Odin Borson, King of Asgard, and Allmother Frigga Fjörgyndóttir, Queen of Asgard, accompanied by Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, and Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard!"

The king and queen only captured fleeting interest for Tony, he had seen enough statues and portraits of them that seeing them in person wasn't that impressive, the elder prince was blond with blue eyes and dressed in the royals' gold-accented leathers with the faintest tinges of red. It was the younger prince that was more interesting as his black hair and green eyes had been the cause of many whispered gossips of the queen's infidelity, the darker child had the same golden leathers as the lighter but where the elder had red, the younger had white.

"Friends," The king said as if he actually _knew_ everyone present on a personal level when the royals reached their table. "My thanks for joining my family upon this joyous occasion, let us feast and make merry!"

They sat after the royals, servants and slaves immediately descending upon the lined tables- procuring plates and bowls of food to serve their masters. The north-western door opened to pour out servants, the first few broke off to serve the royals their food and drink but the rest made rounds with pitchers, serving the guests.

"Peumo Cyder, my young lord?" A male servant demurred into Tony's ear, a pitcher of the aforementioned drink in hand.

Ever conscious of both his father's glare and the threat, he tilted his head slightly to the left and down in a negative response, eyes flicking to the man, "I would prefer _Alíaníqtuq_." he said, recalling the odd bright purple drink that warmed his body a well as any fire but left a pleasant _thrum_ singing through him that Maria had had him try- the drink having been originally from Jotunheim.

"O-of course, milord." The man stumbled over the word slightly, but Tony mused that hearing a child whom wasn't born before the animosities between the two realms request a drink hailing from the enemy land _would_ be rather disconcerting, but retreated smoothly from his side.

Not even a minute later, another servant, this one female, took the mans place with a soft, "_Alíaníqtuq_, milord?" A slight upwards tilt to the right had his goblet filled with the purple drink before the woman disappeared.

"Your food, young master." Jarvis murmured, Tony smothered the unpleasant feeling of having his friend referring to him as _master_, placing the food he had gathered in front Tony- hare stew with two bread rolls was placed on the left of the table's offered plate while an assortment of vegetables with cooked fish was to the right, his drink above it, and an entire hen, albeit a small one, placed directly in front of him on the offered plate- before taking his leave.

Once the servants and slaves returned to their places, the guests looked towards the royals until-

The king took bite.

The queen took a drink.

The musicians started playing.

And the guests started eating, conversations starting up also.

Tony ate slowly but continuously, ensuring his mouth was occupied whenever someone turned to him for conversation until they eventually gave up and allowed him to return to his translations in peace.

A boar, four rolls, a bowl of pudding, two pies and seven goblets later an unspoken command brought the guests out of their seats to mingle about with some taking the chance to dance or flock about the royal couple as they made rounds to thank the guests- the princes breaking off to do the same for the children whom were congregating between the servants' and the eastern door. A glance around lead him to believe he was better off where he was and started on his third pie- this one blue berry.

"My thanks my friend for joining us today for this feast!"

The booming voice startled him enough that he nearly dropped his drink, _.:May the Norns cut out your throat and feed it to the dogs you bumbling moron!:._ he swore swiftly in Vlannian, turning to look at who spoke to him with a glare.

It was the princes- because of course he would swear in a different language at those whom are certain to understand thanks to Allspeak- and a fear of his father finding out what he just did chilled him but he absolutely refused to let up and _grovel_ for forgiveness like others would.

"You should take care of how you speak, my friend." the blond gritted.

His eyes narrowed just a bit more before Tony adopted an expression of disinterested confusion, "I am sorry, but _who_ are you?"

"Your _prince_," the blond glowered, "You would do well to give me the respect I deserve, _peasant_."

Tony's mouth pulled into the sharp grin that always appeared whenever someone spoke to him as if they were better then him, "You will find that I _do_- Tyr, was it?" The blond growled and stomped off towards a group of noblemen's sons, Tony watched him before groaning, "That's it, I am dead."

"You look fairly lively for a person whom is dead."

And once again Tony startled with a swear, this time in Juirinti, _.:__Shit eating bastard!:._

"You will find that I neither eat feces nor am born out of wedlock." The dark prince retorted with a smirk.

"Well," Tony huffed, "You are still young, the former can still change- _Loki_." he added the name, just now recalling the introductions made earlier.

Loki, taking a seat beside him, smirked, "Should I be grateful that you know my name, guildsson?"

"You should be _honored_, princeling." Tony retorted haughtily.

His smirk widened, mirth there, "Then I shall be so, guildsson. Will you grant me your name?"

"What would I gain from such an act?" He asked.

"Should you grant me this favor," Loki answered, "I shall be inclined to warn you of a bit of..._mischief_ that will take place during dessert."

Tony grinned, "Oh? In that case- Antonius Howardson at your service," the dramatic bow earning him a quiet snicker, "But do call me Tony."

"Hmm...Very well, a deal is a deal." Loki hummed. "Don't eat any of the cakes- the darker ones have feces added while the light has urine."

He laughed.

* * *

**_Because I like Frostiron and I wanted to try Aesir!Tony._**

_.:Vlannian:._- **_language of the Vanir._**

_.:Juirinti:.__ - **language of the Jotun.**_

_**As to why Tony needs to learn when there is such a thing as Allspeak? Tony is neither a Royal nor Noble and those are the only families with the ability.**_


End file.
